


Sam Winchester Is

by Idreamofhazel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Analysis, Character Study, Gen, Gen Work, Lyrical prose, Poetry, a heap of emotional throw up about sam winchester, an ode to Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 05:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12928407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idreamofhazel/pseuds/Idreamofhazel
Summary: A piece of writing describing everything Sam Winchester is. A Sam!girl's uncontrollable urge to spew things about Sam every where I go and to make sure everyone knows how much I cry about how amazing he is.





	Sam Winchester Is

Sam Winchester is a fading dream, for the family man, the dog-lover, the lawyer with the American dream. Curly locks and bright eyes, soft cheeks, and a girlfriend named Jessica. 

He is lost potential for evil, the pawn who became his own king, a would-be victim of fate with the strength to forge his own path. 

He is tragedy and rage, woven deep and unseen into lean muscle and sinewy demeanor, precariously concealed, facade held together by botched stitching jobs, liquor, and the rough but caring hands of a brother.

He is a paradox, a contradiction of terrifying malice and unconditional love, a body big enough to contain both; limbs stretching out long enough to reach weary hearts, body growing with a height to make any monster tremble. He is imminent death and a fortitude of protection all at once. 

He is cold and calculated movement, desperate times and desperate measures, black spots on an otherwise glowing soul, inked by loyalty, love, hope, and savior complexes. 

He is a box locked by no less than five locks, keys and combinations lost to the pounding of trauma and marks too deep to heal to scars. He is closed off, sealed tight, and warded. He is a swirling hurricane threatening to break down the very walls he builds up. He is sticky tar puddles of deserved guilt and shame where venturing feet get stuck. He is a man struggling to stand inside while he beats himself down. 

Sam Winchester is pure light, a lone voice of hope in a world where cynicism and giving up roars like a freight train against downtrodden ears. He is the chance to be better. He is always trying to do right. He is growing beyond mistakes, taming demons, the necessity to take control. 

He is jaws and cheekbones of metal sharpened to cut; He is hair to run fingers through, eyes to get lost in, and a glare to kill. He is shoulders as wide as the oceans, heart as deep as their depths, soul as full of their wonder and their horrific unknown.

He is the rebellious brother. The psychic hunter. The outcast. 

He is danger, intellect, weaponry, a deadly hunter grown into himself. 

He is the boyking, chapped lips with ridges filled by the blood of demons.

He is the reason for the world’s demise. The hinge on which the fate of humanity hung. The one human who could hold the embodiment of evil and survive. 

He is the ultimate sacrifice, tried twice. No regard for his own life.  
He is a smile that can heal, eye wrinkles like folded blankets tucked around a friend. He is a warm drink in the midst of cold weather, a shoulder to lean on. He is sly smiles, practical jokes, and witty comebacks. He is cheesy movies and glam rock and healthy food. He is running until your legs give out and loving until your heart bursts. 

He is owning your pain, taking black seeds of damage and sowing them into a cause, birthing something more beautiful than the pain ever was painful. He is taking the knives in your back and using them to save the broken. He is shattered pottery fixed by gold, a mosaic of purity and filth, of sin and forgiveness, of hate and love. 

Sam Winchester is a man aging too soon, budding gray hairs and muscles aching with experience. He is softened by time, found in books and ancient languages and spellwork. He is the war-seasoned soldier returned home, haunted by his ghosts, but forging ahead, creating his own identity, his own future, a life where the light in his soul grows until the black spots fade, where the person he tries to be is the person he becomes.


End file.
